Necessary Love

by Zurock

Chapter 15: Phantasmagoria

The heartswelling sound, the wailing farewell of the boat's foghorn, was a momentary and unifying distraction. Everypony froze in time, turning towards the triumphant noise which had silenced them. Down the pier; the road into the sea; the only gateway to and from the island; there sat the unmoored boat, singing its last goodbye song. Rapt ears listened as the bellow finished thundering through the air, and every eye watched as the heavy engines kicked to life and the great cruise ship began to crawl away upon the waves. Faintly riding under the noisy cover of wind, sea, and whirring metal was the jubilant shouts of the ship's passengers. Their joy carried undiluted over water, and stone, and wood; echoing into memory. Those travelers continued on, towards whatever unknown adventure awaited them.

The mystical draw of the boat faded slowly as it chugged away from the pier. All the silent observers felt their control restored as the power of the mighty sight waned.

Twilight quickly peeked once more at all of her friends. She looked at their faces; at the way they stood; into their eyes if she could manage it. No last minute doubts were there. Nothing on them rejected her own prior declaration of enthusiasm on their behalf. With the boat having departed there was no way back now, but clearly none of them were wishing it had stayed.

The eight travelers and the island hosts all faced each other again, and Twilight spoke. Behind her, her words were backed by the nodding agreements of her friends. "So... where do we begin?"

Venus, leaning tenderly once more into Vesuvius, commented to him in quiet excitement, "So eager to start! Isn't that the best attitude?"

"Mmm," he softly moaned in affirmation, stroking her cheek with his own. "She is Princess Celestia's favored pupil, after all."

But he didn't let himself get too distracted. Staying held close to his dear one, he kindly directed to the guests, "We're glad you feel so ready, but let's not rush. You're here to relax and enjoy the experience, of course. Everything will come in time." Oddly, he turned to look back towards the dense cluster of other island ponies, weighted down his voice with command, and finished, "So let's take things slowly, hm?"

"Yes!" Venus erupted with delight. "Now that you've come all this way, let's just get you settled in first! We'll show you to your rooms at the Passion's Embrace and then, after you've had a moment to rest, we'll all sit down together for a welcoming feast!"

Bright and excited, she swiveled her head about and then ordered the other islanders, "Everypony! Attend to our guests!"

Like a colony of drunken ants the crowd of island ponies haphazardly broke apart, swarming everywhere. There were eight of them, one for each guest, and they sought to collect and carry all of their visitors' many bags. But there was no clean order to the way they went about what should have otherwise been simple acts of servitude. Their break was tremendously chaotic: ponies stopped and started as they cut in front of each other carelessly or tried to dodge collisions through jagged movement. They came forward no more efficiently or quickly than badly merging traffic.

It was a far cry from the professionally trained regiment of bellhops at the Baltimare hotel; those noble service soldiers who had form, grace, and capability. The bellhops had operated like a well-oiled machine effortlessly minting its one-millionth perfect piece, crafting a success so flawless as to be new, without even the smallest pop, start, or fit. By contrast the island ponies bungled around like it was their very first time working together.

Half of the trouble seemed to stem from the fact that they communicated no coordination. It was impossible to discern whatever criteria they had used to determine which of them would assist which guest; if there had even been any criteria at all. But they didn't march forward directly, going for the guest closest to them, which would have made for a quick collection. No, each island pony went for a guest seemingly chosen at random, and thus they all wound up crossing paths and stepping in front of each other as they tried to reach their chosen visitors. Yet, if their choices had in fact been random, at no point had the island ponies spoken to each other about whom they had selected, and additionally no guest was accidentally approached by two ponies at once.

Before Twilight advanced the unicorn stallion who had earlier greeted everypony on the pier. The same nervousness was still present on his face, though now greatly reduced since he had only one pair of eyes watching him instead of eight. He drew in a steadying breath and gave his head a tiny shake, whisking his freely running mane about slightly. Equipping his readiest smile he set about his task.

With an immensely respectful bowing of his body, he said to Twilight, "I'll take your saddlebags. Uh, if you like."

"Oh, sure. Of course," Twilight pleasantly replied.

Suddenly her torso shifted with a fast jerking motion upwards, and she grunted uncomfortably. The strap of her saddlebags had nearly cut up into her belly, rubbing hard as it unexpectedly tightened about her; the accidental result of both unicorns' spells simultaneously trying to undo the bags.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" the stallion apologized profusely as he dropped his magic in distraught shock. He shrunk back a little, falling headlong into penitence as all his ill confidence came rushing back.

Twilight was able to laugh off the mishap however. "No, it's alright," she assured him, doing her best to silently endure the light burn that the strap's attack had left on her body. With no other magic now getting in her way she simply unbuckled her saddlebags and floated them out before herself. "Here you are."

Very carefully the other pony assumed control of the levitating bags, minding very specifically this time not to interrupt Twilight's magic while doing so. Like autumn leaves the color of the waving aura about the saddlebags steadily changed from her saturated pink to his royal blue. Even after Twilight completely let go there was a long, uncomfortable moment where he was triply cautious to check his magical grip. When he eventually resumed his full task he very delicately handled the bags, bringing them over his own back and strapping them on snugly with exceptional care. He looked quite natural in them, too; the cool blue color of the saddlebags a quaint match with his cobalt mane, and a soft complement to his dry green coat.

However, he stalled out after he had the bags secured. No further offers of service to her were made and neither were there motions made to step away; he only sort of fidgeted on the ready side of retreat, undecided. His mouth trembled slightly with temporary words bounding about inside; wanting to say something more to her but unsure if he could or should deliver whatever waltzed on the end of his reticent tongue.

He made a glance towards Vesuvius, not for any reason that was spelled out clearly on his face. The head stallion did not return the look, his attention greatly focused elsewhere, but just the sight of the stern leader seemed to give the saddlebag-wearing unicorn what he needed to settle his choice.

Politely he said to Twilight, dipping his head down respectfully, "Thank you," and he proceeded to walk away.

"Oh, no, thank you," she responded graciously. There was enough kindness in the words to undo the shame the stallion felt for his earlier mistake. A surer calm fell into his departing steps and a real smile, healthier and happier, claimed his face.

The stallion who approached Fluttershy was far more jumpy than the one who was assisting Twilight. His scrawny tail hid between his legs, and his face dragged along lowly as if a sagging weight was tied to his nose. A paleness coated him; perhaps a result of his extreme worry but maybe it was only the thinness of his natural colors. His tail and mane were as scarcely purple as a faded wine stain; his body was like a weathered clam shell half-buried in sand, with the vibrancy all but beaten out of it; his eyes were so mildly brown that they were almost absent of color entirely. It was surprising how dry and bleached he appeared for his young age. The only thing that made the earth pony stand out at all was his cutie mark: three dim purple silhouettes of a mouse, a coyote, and an ox huddled together in friendship.

Carefully he crept closer to the timid pegasus, full of heart-pounding caution. Fluttershy hardly even noticed him nearing her at first, though it didn't take long for her own wary nature to alert her of him. If playing a porter was his goal then he didn't stop nearly close enough to her to be reasonably effective, and his struggling efforts to speak up didn't do much to close the gap either, whispering out words which were almost intentionally volumeless, "Um... M-Miss Fluttershy? I'll grab your bags for you."

If it weren't for her years of attentive listening to the squeaks of nervous baby chipmunks and the chirps of tiny frightened bugs then she probably wouldn't have heard him. "Oh. Thank you," the pegasus replied simply. She had no intention to upset anypony, especially not one who was only doing his job, so she very carefully released the buckle of her saddlebags and slid them off. When he didn't immediately come to collect them she picked them up herself and held them out for him in as nonthreatening a way as possible.

Painfully he inched forward until he was close enough to reach them. He nervously braced himself for a few moments before he finally managed to stretch his neck forwards and take the saddlebags from her. Only after he withdrew a few steps did he begin to strap them onto himself, and he took the utmost care in doing so, particularly because he needed snail-like speed to overcome his own anxious shaking.

Fluttershy promptly forgot about his nearby presence after having handed off her saddlebags, presuming readily that he would immediately hop to his task of bearing them to her eventual room. That was why she jumped with sudden, flustered fright when he instead stayed and spoke to her again.

"I'm Humble Herd. M-My n-name, I mean," he said timidly, half-remembering to take an awkward, incomplete, and unbalanced bow. The hasty motion caused the loose saddlebags, still not securely strapped on to him yet, to slip up his barrel and towards his neck. Clumsily he floundered about in an effort to slide them back and tighten the strap, and he continued speaking with mounting panic as he did, "I just wanted to i-introduce myself, I g-guess. It's n-nice to- Uh... I mean... thanks for being n-nice enough to l-let me carry- Um..."

The saddlebags finally settled into a proper place. Distracted by the opportunity, he ceased his jabbering and gingerly yanked on the strap, drawing it tight enough to firmly set the bags' position and keep them from being any more trouble. It was a tiny success which gave him a short-lived rush of satisfaction, registering on his face as a brief burst of almost adorable exhilaration.

The high quickly passed though, giving way to a recognition of how foolish he must have appeared. Another realization also suddenly struck him: the horribly bad position he had left himself in to continue his already fractured rambling. He barely squeezed out the most inept, pathetic smile to cover himself and, lacking anything substantial to say, he weakly croaked in conclusion, "Uh... it's nice."

Fluttershy's face turned from her golden yellow to a cherry red as she shrunk back in mortification. To quickly deal with an unknown pony in a capacity that was strictly business wasn't a problem, usually; she could turn over her bags to a service pony for transport without a second thought. But it was something different altogether that this stranger was now calling for genuine, personal interaction. She wasn't at all prepared for that!

"Oh, um, yes... it's... it's nice to meet you," she mumbled back, ducking down slightly and turning her head such that her mane fell over her face.

Humble Herd received the message loud and clear. As much as the wave of pink hair was a simple shield to her it struck him with a sharp thrust like a sword, and his own skittish restlessness came bleeding out all the more profusely. He babbled with excessive unease, "N-Nice to m-meet you too, um... again. I, uh, I w-work with the animals h-here on the island a-and I heard that you, ah, do that kind of stuff, and- uh... so... I just w-wanted to say hi. Um..." He froze.

They traded embarrassed silence, a mute void amid the larger commotion going on about them, and they only ever peeked out from behind their broken composures to check if the other pony had turned away completely yet.

The stallion caved first. "Thanks," he suddenly blurted out again before he whipped around and retreated, stumbling as he went. The chain of the sapphire heart necklace, still dangling out from the sealed flap of one of the bags, jingled as it slid back and forth from his hurried cantor.

Fluttershy furtively glanced out from behind the veil of her mane. When he at last had gone far enough to satisfy her shaky nerves she put out a distraught sigh. That wouldn't have been so bad if she had been more ready for such an encounter but she had been expecting a truly quiet and peaceful vacation; just her, some serene daylight, and the heavenly melody of animal calls that she hoped to discover on the island.

With great effort she tried to push the upsetting experience to the back of her mind.

It was a much bolder pony who came up to Pinkie Pie; almost recklessly intrepid even. A pegasus as navy blue as the sunniest sea - in body, mane, and tail - he moved about with such eager mirth that his wings seemed permanently extended, their magic lift always a faint breath away from tearing him off the ground so that he could soar with excitement. On top his mane was rounded and puffy, and in back his tail was similarly short and stubby; both loose enough still to bob up and down with his jaunty movements. Anticipation leaked out of his every crevice for each step he took, flowing in greater and greater quantities as he closed in on his target. By the time he was in front of Pinkie Pie it would have been impossible to pack any more boiling energy into him; he was on the precipice of overflowing and spilling his unending ardor everywhere. The loosely stacked, candy-colored rings on his flank practically danced all on their own.

"Hey hey!" he poured out his enthusiasm in a peppy hello. "You MUST be Pinkie Pie; no doubt about it! I've been itching and itching to meet ya! Like crawly-things-all-up-in-my-wings itchy!" He was helpless against making a demonstration and his wings briefly beat with a buzz as electric as a horsefly's.

Too engaged to listen for her reply, or even to wait for her permission, he squiggled right up next to her and grasped at the overweight sack resting on her back, remarking belatedly, "Here, I'll just carry this for you."

"Okay. Sure," the pink pony pathetically responded. She tilted lifelessly to the left, leaning enough to cause her corpulent bag to tumble over itself off of her. The mingled miscellanea inside clanged about like cymbals rolling down a rocky hill as the hefty sack crashed into the deck, nearly crushing the pony who had volunteered to carry it. Without being prompted Pinkie Pie also undid the buckle of her stuffed saddlebags and dropped them on the floor, never wiping the statuesque stare off of her face.

The dead response tossed the poor stallion miles off of his spontaneous script. Starving leeches sunk their fangs into him, sucking the boundless energy right out. Now caught in a whirlpool of bewildered wonder he threw around fast glances at the other guest ponies, as if he was missing the other half of an obvious two-piece puzzle, before he confusingly questioned, "Uh... you're... you're Pinkie Pie... right?"

"Yeah." Cold and still as an abandoned gravestone. In winter.

"Oh. Uh. Right." He leapt back into action, not quite as spirited as before, and he donned her heavy saddlebags before using all of his strength to fling her extra, bloated bag up onto his back. His knees buckled a little with the weight, though he was more than capable; it was mostly his now-poisoned exuberance that held him back from otherwise accomplishing tremendous things effortlessly.

The most boggled of stares came out of him, fixated upon the pink pony. Speaking generally he liked encountering unexpected things; it kept life fresh; but Twilight's notations had described a pony weaved from a whole different cloth than this sorry creature before him. The divine preview had lead him to envision a pony who was very much from the other side of the mirror compared to what he saw here; a pony that, unlike the joyless husk he was speaking too, was endlessly filled with more fun than an open crate of fireworks exploding inside of an ice cream cake factory on National Water Balloon Fight Day.

"I, uh... I'm Hulahoof," he greeted reluctantly while his wings balanced the fresh load on his back. "I'm the party master here on the island. I set up all the... stuff... and stuff. For the luaus... and the shindigs... and... stuff. Uh..." His every resting breath was long, to allow her the space to interject, but she never did. He was exceptionally lost. "I heard you like parties?"

"Yeah." Soulless.

"Oh, super-great! I mean, uh, I guess?"

At last finished with leveling the swollen sack so that it sat steady, Hulahoof patted its sides with his wings, feeling out some of the mysteries crammed inside. Distantly hopeful, he offered, "Feels like... you've got a lot of crazy party goodies in here." When that remark failed to produce even the dimmest of sparks within her he finally gave up and dismally drew back. "I, uh... hope you like some of the stuff I've set up for all of you. Parties on the beach, and everything... Gonna be great..."

"Sounds fun," Pinkie Pie droned. Her mouth contorted into a gleamless smile, independent of the rest of her face which didn't follow through.

Shaken, from more than just the load he was bearing, he backed off before finally turning about leaving her alone.

And yet another stallion. He cracked his back once, then rolled his shoulders while realigning his wings so that they sat folded neatly. The other island ponies recklessly moved about in front of him, seeking out the guests whom they wished to serve, nearly crashing into each other as they dispersed poorly. But this pegasus had no intention to go until he was ready. Preparation was key for perfect execution.

His hoof smoothed down his short and slick, fuchsia mane. He picked at the corners of his eyes to scratch away any encrusted mucus, then rapidly blinked to make sure his pea-green peepers were flush with moisture. Twisting his neck left and right, he worked out any stiffness while he simultaneously inspected his body; a search for any visible spots or blemishes tarnishing the fine metallic gold color of his coat. And it was fortunate that he did check himself over: a leftover whiff of cloud had snagged itself on his right flank, blocking his cutie mark. He dusted the cottony dirt away so that the white triple arrow, an emblem of diving force, was once more unobscured. When he thought he felt ready at last he searched himself for a second time, just to be sure, and with more speed. If there was only going to be one chance for a good first impression well then by golly he was going to make the best of it.

At last fully prepared, he was the final one of the islanders to break away from their earlier formless formation. He easily bobbed between all the other ponies on the busy deck, as light on his hooves as he was on his wings. When he came up to the pony he was set to serve she was turned partially aside, her flank towards him. Standing erect, neck up and chin level, he very silently cleared his throat and then began formally, "Pardon me, Miss Rainbow Dash, and welcome to our island. My name is-"

"Yeah, yeah. Here," the busy Rainbow Dash swiftly disregarded him, without ever turning to take a peek. One of her wings tossed her lightweight saddlebags to the floor before him.

"So anyway," she continued her conversation with Applejack, barely thrown off course by the brief encounter, "what do you think? I'm hoping for a little more than some fluffy massage type stuff."

"I don't rightly know, Rainbow," the farm pony responded, jaded. Her voice hovered with inflated sarcasm as she said, "Maybe you could try asking'em what we'll get up to?"

"Maybe," the pegasus rejected, deaf to any complaint coming from her friend. "Not sure I'd get a serious answer, what with the way they're being all mysterious and 'blah blah blah, paradise, bluh bluh bluh, your lives are in our hooves' or whatever."

Giving a groaning sigh, Applejack answered, "Well, it is a vacation. I'm sure they'll give us plenty of nice and quiet things to do."

"Uh, yeah," Rainbow Dash quipped, furrowing her brow in disbelief. "It's a vacation, and that means HAVING FUN."

"Working the orchard is fun," snipped the farm pony. "I like my vacations to be a little more of the relaxing-type persuasion."

One eye roll later the pegasus impatiently observed, "You've been a real balking bronco lately." She snorted rhetorically, "When did you get to be such a pain to deal with?"

It only pulled Applejack into an equally rude and incredulous mood. "You're one to talk!"

Standing behind the farm pony a stallion had been waiting, and waiting, and waiting; further stretching his thinning patience as the seconds ticked by. With the way the two mares had been going back and forth, occasionally chatting and occasionally barking, he had never found the correct moment to insert himself. Their available time wasn't infinite though, and all around them most of the other guests' bags had been taken away already.

Deciding that he had little choice left but to act, the earth pony lightly thumped his chocolate colored hoof upon the wooden boards below. "Excuse me," he carefully announced.

"What? Oh. Here ya are." Unfocused and hasty, Applejack quickly undid her saddlebags. They plunked onto the floor only for the farm pony to shove them back with one of her hind legs, scraping them towards the waiting stallion. Her argument with Rainbow Dash scarcely suffered through it.

The stallion clicked his tongue, not so taken aback as to be insulted but still plainly disappointed. Whatever. Good enough for now.

Shaking his head he retrieved the saddlebags from where they laid, merely holding them in his mouth by the strap instead of bothering to wear them. He abandoned the bickering mares. His tail, long and stained yellow, swept about the dusty dirt on the wooden boards beneath him as he stepped away.

He passed by the dejected, dark gold pegasus who still waited by Rainbow Dash's flank. "Come on," he encouraged his friend to likewise quit any introduction.

"But-"

"No. Come on."

The pegasus stallion leaked a self-disappointed grumble, but he acquiesced. Picking up and putting on Rainbow Dash's saddlebags he followed the other stallion away with a lowered head, muttering to himself in speculation about what he could have done differently.

Something was quite unique about the pony who approached Rarity. He was tall and lean, with a noble arch to his neck, and a snout that stretched a little longer than most other stallions. His stiff mane held itself up proudly, a silver-white crest which followed the firm line of his perfectly curved neck. Beneath the surface of his beautiful black body were well-honed muscled which hugged chiseled bones. It was perhaps in his bright chartreuse stare that most of his power rested; eyes which snatched up whatever they pleased in one moment before having the softest shine of pitiable desire in the next. A dashing looking pony, fine and handsome, if ever there was one.

He stepped towards Rarity, doubtless confidence reverberating from each solid strike of his hooves against the wood. The very air he passed through seemed to fall in line behind him, fawning as it followed after him. Loyally the breeze chased his face up as he lifted his head into the sky, and obediently it fell back down again when he humbled himself in a refined bow.

"The lady Rarity, I presume?" came his smoothly delivered greeting. "It's so hard to for me to say for sure when you're so much more beautiful than your friend's limited description could convey." He was gentlecolt enough to lift up one of her hooves with his own and deliver a formal kiss upon it.

His presentation pressed the exact combination of buttons to trigger Rarity's fancy. "Oh my!" she giggled helplessly, turning her blushing face slightly aside, "You're quite the charmer!"

"Well, my name is Sweet Nothing, but please feel free to call me whatever pleases you most, my beautiful lady." Again he brought himself low with well-practiced genuflection.

Rarity fell that much further into her euphoric pit, with her kiss-blessed hoof over her hopelessly red cheek as she chittered to herself like a schoolfoal.

Dialing up his charisma all the more, Sweet Nothing scooted ever closer to her side and pressed his enchanting aura upon her. "Might I have the undue honor of carrying your baggage?" he tempted her in a quiet, alluring tone.

"Ahahahehehee," the melting unicorn uncontrollably sputtered, wild with a blurry blend of delighted embarrassment. Compulsion conquered her mind, and her horn rushed to do some unnecessary emergency care to her mane; magic's invisible touch stretched, squeezed, and curled away all of the imperceptibly perfect imperfections from her amazing hair. Unable to even break her gaze from the captivating stallion, or to dispel the lavish fantasies filling her head, she inattentively commanded her faithful dragon, "Spike, be a dear and give some of my bags to this... generous hunk of a pony."

Finally having a reason to change his focus off of Rarity, the flirtatious stallion looked beyond his target and noticed a pile of luggage which was neatly sorted and stacked like a tall pyramid. A short, purple and green dragon was still finishing arranging the last bags after hauling them all up the pier.

Carefully Sweet Nothing stepped around the red-faced, starry-eyed unicorn. He made sure to linger a wanting stare upon her as he passed, dragging his eyes behind himself. Briefly he stopped, reached back, and brushed a raised hoof across the air which rested upon her already burning cheek, a few scant hairs away.

The deliciously soft delivery of it... the tickling touch as he moved his caressing wind passed her... it pretty much drove her over the edge. She transformed completely into a delirious, drooling fool, oblivious to everything which was going on about her.

Spike regarded the stallion who approached him with only a small amount of suspicion. The innate jealously was absolutely there but the dragon always worked hard to suppress such feelings whenever he saw Rarity become so infatuated. For one thing: that was her business if she wanted to be charmed by somepony else, and he never accepted the idea that he had the selfish authority to demand otherwise; even if it hurt to watch sometimes. For another thing: her fanciful lovestruck feelings were always transient (or at least so he prayed,) whereas she had time and again admitted her sincere, truly heartfelt appreciation for him. Others passed; he lasted.

And so, with much concentrated faith and a little bit of hopeful goodwill, he was able to put his best foot forward.

"Hey, thanks for the help," he hailed Sweet Nothing earnestly. His body wriggled about like a worm waving from its earthen hole as he peered around the great luggage pile, pointing out different pieces. "I think if you take these tote bags here... and this chest... and maybe this bag with all the yellow diamonds on it, and this thing with the wheels here... well, then I should be able to handle the other seven bags myself. It'll be a pretty even split and we'll be able to haul everything to her room much faster." His claws clasped onto his waist patiently and he nodded, "Sound good?"

"Hrm...," the dark stallion hummed with a grating rumble in his throat. His eyes narrowed, turning into intensely radiant slits against his black face. At first they focused upon the measly dragon before him, but eventually they darted about the lobby deck. Everywhere they took in what was occurring: distracted island ponies who were preoccupied grabbing bags from other guests... visiting ponies who were absorbed in observing the ponies who were helping them... the lady Rarity swooning too hard to have any wits about her...

He moved up next to Spike and bent himself into the luggage pile, hooking about his neck one of the many bags by its straps.

The dragon inched closer, mildly perplexed at Sweet Nothing's behavior. "Uh, excuse me," he politely injected himself, "I don't mean to be rude or anything but that's one of the bags that I'll take. You see, I think it would be easier for-"

Abruptly, absent even the tiniest signal in warning, the stallion swung his hips to the side with all the force of a falling hammer. His flank struck Spike dead on and cast the dragon backwards, the tumbling lizard bouncing as he rolled several feet backwards.

Without pause Sweet Nothing proceeded to secure all of Rarity's baggage: throwing more and more onto his neck until they were clustered like a cumbersome keg below his chin; mounting many on his back with skillful ease; he even wrapped his strong, silvery tail around the handle of the wheeled piece of luggage and towed it behind him. Under the strain of carrying the entirety of the unicorn's excessive supplies his muscles buckled down, but really that only made their powerful, solid, and shapely forms stand out all the more. The burden barely slowed him, and he certainly did not allow himself to reveal even a hint of difficulty in doing his duty.

He strut his way back past Rarity, wielding her luggage dauntlessly. Head tall as a tower, he said confidently as he passed, "Nothing to it, my lady. And if there is anything more you need, don't hesitate to seek me out and ask."

The unicorn, dizzy with delight, swayed where she stood and padded her hot cheek with a sigh; the luckiest mare in the world.

Sweet Nothing smiled to himself complacently, heading to join the rest of the ponies who had already collected their designated baggage. But as he went he caught Vesuvius tracking him.

The master stallion's furled lips just scarcely concealed his grit teeth, his tail curled up and stretched out again and again, and his red irises boiled in the harshness of his stare.

But the sight of the burning pony only poured more cockiness into Sweet Nothing, and he threw that much more defiance and self-assertion into his stride, kicking his hind legs a little towards the island master. Vesuvius did little more than stand there and let the rising steam leak out of his nostrils.

Spike heaved an awful groan, shaking his head to loosen out the echoing soreness caught inside. He stood back up and tried to ignore the ringing in his ears. All about him everypony was carrying on as if nothing had happened. Unbelievable; nopony had seen it! He folded up his arms and gave a silent snarl towards the departing jerk who had knocked him over.

"Excuse me? Mister dragon?"

"Bwuh?" Spike flinched as he turned towards the rather large pegasus mare who had surprised him so, but then his eyes widened merely to take all of her in. Tall maybe didn't go far enough; she was nearly half a head above most other ponies even without accounting for her jungle green mane and the way it protruded up like a jagged paper fan. There was a well-packed thickness to her body too, with her whole shape as bold and bright as a pumpkin, solid with the same heavy girth and skin, and her tail as the thick stem. Her wings as well, feathers sharp and aligned, were detectably broad and grand even as they sat at rest on her back; a real dragon of a pony.

Her aqua eyes towered over him, with her stare lost in something which still processed inside of her head. A clash between expectations and reality dominated her her thoughts as she peered at the dragon. Finally she woke herself up from her wonder and blindly asked, "Ah, do you have bags for me to carry, mister dragon... Spike... sir?"

"Well, all my stuff is packed up with-," Spike began. His eyes drew a sour line towards Sweet Nothing and the stolen cargo which the detestable pony now hauled. "No, I guess not," he grunted, low and with displeasure. Again he folded up his arms.

"Oh," the flustered mare realized. "Then, ah... pardon me." She stepped away as suddenly as she had shown up, leaving the dragon slightly bemused himself.

James stood quietly, his overgrown thoughts flourishing inside. He had listened intently to the poetic speeches by Venus and Vesuvius, amused at first. The vibrancy their words delivered had brought to mind the many commercials for tropical getaways that his memory had permanently absorbed from a childhood which was a little too glued to the television. Still, and maybe it had just been the mood in the air filtering into him, he had started to settle into fully hopeful spirits; maybe this vacation really was going to be something special! But bit by bit something had distracted him as he had watched and listened, siphoning his pleasant thoughts away to leave only the most pensively ponderous ones in control.

The two island owners, and their incredibly... close... relationship; it wouldn't have been so off or jarring to him elsewhere, or back home anyway. Seeing their open, unabashed, and even outright salacious behavior towards each other, especially in the presence of their own fellows AND of their guests... witnessing that had hit him like a slap to his face. It took a few minutes of silent reflection before he had finally realized why it had struck so bluntly: over three months now he had been in Equestria and he had never seen the faintest clue nor even heard the remotest hint of such behavior.

Oh, he had seen ponies in love. Star Glitter and P.V. sprung to mind, though they were only the most recent example. The fresh Equestrian memories were there and readily accessible: a myriad of different young lovers out in the park or strolling downtown, close and comfortable with each other; older couples like the Cakes who worked in perfect partnership, with love and appreciation that expressed itself in the neatest and most ordinary of ways, yet no less powerful in inspiration (such individuals rather reminded him of his own parents, actually;) Pinkie Pie had dragged him to more than a few specially-crafted birthday parties, extremely dear celebrations which had been commissioned by ponies who had wished to shower devotion onto the somepony special who completed their life.

Ponies did fall in love, and they got into it in the most romantically compassionate of ways. He had never asked before, but he was sure Twilight would have told him that love was a force much like magic was, moving through the world with an unknown but benevolent purpose, and capable of its own unbelievable and impossible-defying things. She would probably have meant it sincerely too. He could think of a dictionary's worth of words to bundle up with all that he had seen in pony romance: affection, dedication, courage, admiration, cute, adorable, silly, fun, dear, lovely, pure...

... chaste ...?

Yes. There were harder words that he physically couldn't bring himself to use in association with pony romance. He had never, not even once, caught a whiff of pony relationships possibly going in such a direction. Not in sight, not in rumor, not in jest. Forbidden words: desire... lust... SEX.

Seriously. He had once gotten idly curious enough to pour through the Ponyville Library's card catalogs in a search of any reference to the subject. In what was publicly available there had been no books specifically on it, and so he had pulled all the books that could have even possibly been related to it, tangentially or otherwise. And there had been nothing. No tome had contained a single mention of it! At the time he had been apt to blame his failure on the library's lack of a computer; he had recognized his own fumbling inability to work an old card catalog with any reasonable efficiency. But as hindsight grew clearer, and as more life in Equestria accumulated in him... he had become less and less sure that the omission of sex was something incidental.

Twilight would have been his go-to pony to ask about such a thing, largely because she had a vast breadth of knowledge on EVERYTHING, and her ability to become singlemindedly interested in just about any topic only eased things even more. He had never questioned her about it though. He had come close to asking her outright a few times, again in instances where his curiosity had incidentally peaked. But the absolute absence of even a single reference had been enough to hold him back. Never once had she herself remotely touched, teased, hinted at, or even danced around a vague reference which could have conceivably been misconstrued as possibly being about the subject. Never had anypony done so. And none of the faint allusions he had made to sex, by accidental habit or on purpose as curious tests, had ever triggered an understanding response for her or anypony.

It wasn't that it would have been terribly embarrassing to ask somepony he was comfortable with, like Twilight; he had grown past that phase well before coming to Equestria. And Twilight really did have all the smarts of a dozen college professors combined; there wasn't a doubt that she could handle the subject with grace, if she chose to. It just... would kind have felt inappropriate in those moments of high curiosity to have suddenly shifted the conversation to: "Hey. Let's talk about SEX."

Especially if in the end it somehow turned out that ponies literally had no frame of reference for it; a scenario no doubt possible through some form of magic mumbo jumbo. Maybe this was a universe where storks actually did cut out all the dirty business? (Not that he could bring himself to actually believe that.)

And besides... he sort of didn't want to have a SERIOUS discussion about sex anyway. He hadn't seen a good looking woman for months, and each week it was dawning on him more that he never would see another one agai-

"Mister... James, sir?"

All the worldly sensations about him came rushing back: salty air on his face, stiff wood holding up his feet, and a menagerie of new colors in his eyes.

A unicorn mare had come before him, and was she ever as vivid as a child's crayon box. A coat less than the most brilliant white but more than the most sparkling silver; a mane made from swirls of carnation red, minty green, and icy blue, with a few waves held in place by breezy violet clips; her tail was also decorated, braided into five sequential and colorful bulbs that were split by also violet hair ties; and her eyes were as reflective as stainless steel, polished and perfect. On her ankles she wore several bracelets; simple loops of solid color: a frosty orange, a happy red, a carefree yellow, and yet another violet, the four split evenly between her two front legs; in back there was only one, a lonely gray on her right hind leg. Even her cutie mark was a wheel of rainbow color, the merging stripes almost spinning on their own the more the symbol was stared at, and at the center of the pit of collapsing colors they joined into an infinitely white light. She was anything and everything, and ready for anything and everything.

"Oh, hey, yes, can I help you?" James woke up from his inner thoughts, impulsively dribbling out slapdash words while he collected his wits.

His clumsy return to reality sparked a quiet laugh in her, and she said, "I'm here to help YOU!" The radiant light from her horn started to tentatively lift the single sack which sat by his feet. "May I take your bag, sir?" she cordially requested.

"Yeah, sure. Sorry." He slid just one small step to the side in an unneeded show of surrender, and the unicorn surrounded his bag fully with her magic before hoisting it into the air behind her.

The man gave her a dainty, fast nod of approval before he tried to turn back his mind to whatever road it had been on. The snap back to reality had put him in that forgetful place where everything felt familiar, just dancing outside the bounds of recognition, yet nothing was surely known; a temporary amnesia clouded over with dizzy thoughts. It didn't clear immediately so he had no choice but to feel his way along in blind frustration until he could stumble upon his old trail. Intuition made his eyes drift naturally back towards Venus and Vesuvius.

Something about the way they stood together... pressed closed, virtually on top of each other, yet still trying to get impossibly closer. Trying to force themselves into each others' bodies...

He felt his mind on the very verge of recovery when he noticed that the sense of uncomfortable proximity had never dissipated; he wasn't alone with his thoughts. From the corner of his eye he saw a wedge of lively colors, and the flickering of a still glowing light, like a chest of illuminated gems just outside of his vision. The unicorn mare hadn't moved. Still she stood there, her horn shining as it magically clutched his bag.

Turning his neck so as to look at her from a straighter angle, he was startled by how engrossed her own her eyes were with him. She had that look: leery and inquisitive, focused and distracted, with her vision so dialed in that it blocked out the rest of the world. Up her gaze crawled, its sticky limbs climbing his body with an eager grip for every place it stopped, before it turned around and wandering back down him, exploring the whole way. By just a hair, her mouth was cracked open.

Again James found himself in a place of unusual familiarity. Getting odd looks for ponies wasn't anything new for him; many of the Ponyville ponies also had taken a few wide-eyed moments to visually inspect the only human they would ever see. It had been quite natural and expected, and that behavior had subsided with the more of him that they had seen around their village, as well as with the more comfort he had found in himself being around them.

But that's not what this unicorn's probing stare was. Its character was so much more absorbed, and far less suspicious; so much more imaginative, and far less concealed; so much more audacious, and far less reserved.

The longer her stare lingered about him the more he was reminded not of the Ponyville ponies and their sterile scrutiny of him... but of something else. His memory told him that the look on her face came from the days before Equestria. Those exploring eyes... he had seen the same moving glances whenever he had found himself in a place full of uncommitted individuals; in an era which had been a little more lonely, a little more hormone driven, and a little more surrounded by pretty girls (with only two legs.)

Was she... checking him out?

"... Yes?" the man was slow to interrupt her, almost troubled.

"Oh, um," she finally recognized how overly long she had delayed her departure. At last turning to move away, she dragged her hooves significantly and held her stare upon him for as much extra time as she could. Before breaking from him completely she unexpectedly spoke up, "You're very... interesting."

The statement greeted him with an odd sort of humility. Half of it was coated in apology, not that the physical words spoke to any sorrow for her improper ogling. But the simple sentence also resounded with wishful prediction, and even anticipation.

"I'm Prism, by the way," she added quickly. She spared him no time to respond, walking away immediately with his airborne bag bouncing along after her.

The bizarre event left its mark on the man and he stood idle, witnessing her departure but not particularly watching it. A small buzz of bewilderment caused his extremities to tingle. There didn't feel like a right way to process what had just happened.

He at last turned away, sighed, rubbed his neck, and straightened the thin straps of his shirt which ran over his shoulders. Fiddling with the strings that held his shirt on encouraged him to look down at the design Rarity had made for him. The flowing-camisole-shirt-thing, with all its layered ruffles; the skirt-shorts, like a young girl might wear; and the actually-quite-nice sandals. He looked stupidly ridiculous, and the longer he wore it the more he felt that his regret was catching up to his sense of obligation towards Rarity. Maybe this ugly thing was all that Prism had been gawking at. It was a wonder he hadn't gotten more stares.

It wasn't long before the disorganized island ponies had collected all of the luggage, and they gathered themselves together near a set of steps leading up to another deck. Again they had no particular organization in the way they settled, forming not any clean line or orderly block but rather a messy blob.

Vesuvius still had his judging eyes working over his island ponies' performances, but they largely only cast harsh rays at Sweet Nothing. He never said anything however, nor did he leave Venus's side. He only stood and simmered.

Venus giggled to him softly and then whispered into his ear. Whatever she said mostly smothered the fire within him. His eyes returned to himself, his chin dropped, and tickles of suppressed embarrassment warmed his face. Eventually he nodded his head and then whispered back to her. With another quiet and joyful snicker Venus caressed his neck with her cheek before she pushed a powerful, lingering kiss onto the side of his face.

"Go ahead," she cooed.

Bearing a small smile again, the sturdy stallion ruefully departed her company and went to lead the other islanders. His authoritative voice reigned over them, not gushing out loud and abrasive but flowing strongly with a now controlled and respectful calm. Disorderly crowd that they were, it was with a slow start that they hoofed it up the nearby steps to the next level, heading for a path which ran away from the tiny dock town. Each of them casually marched to their own rhythm under Vesuvius' direction.

The island lady assumed the task of handling the guests by herself, and she merrily called to them, "Now then! If you'll please follow me? We have plenty of space for you all, and I can't wait to show you where you'll be staying! And afterwards it will be such a pleasure to sit down with you together and chat over a nice meal." She took a thankful step towards Twilight and then gestured one of her creamy pink hooves towards the rest of the guests, beckoning them forward. "Your friend's words were very helpful for our preparation, but words are no substitute for the close company of a real pony!"

Turning about she began to move on, following shortly behind Vesuvius and the others. Twilight and her friends, still eager and on board, if overflowing with their own mixed thoughts and speculations, proceeded after their guide.

As they went Venus announced back towards them, "We're quite proud of the Passion's Embrace. It's special to us; Suvi and I. It all began right there, where we eventually built it. And from its humble beginnings there, we hope... we will change the world."

Comments

[Coranth]

Something seems very strange about all this; like there's something hidden just beneath the surface...

[Zenith Starwalker]

Out of curiosity, will you be going into substantial depth with James and his 'lack of human ladies' problem? Exploring the effects of isolation away from the fairer sex has always been interesting to read about in this Fandom.

[wlam]

I'd really rather he wouldn't. There's only so many masturbation jokes you can write before it stops being funny. Most people have at least one extended dry spell during their lives and manage to cope without getting all "woe is me" over it, so I think it's safe to assume he does what any man does in that situation and otherwise ignore the topic as much as possible.

[Jack Kellar]

Funny how the handlers seem tailored to fit exactly the kinks of the vacationers in order to get them infatuated. Sweet Nothing shows it best.

And this "change the world" talk... these ponies are gonna be some twisted, magical terrorists, aren't they? Or changelings, that works too if they feed on lust.

[Zurock]

5752542
Substantial depth? No, probably not. It's not going to be ignored; his feelings about the issue will play some role in things that happen and how he responds to such events, which is one of the reasons why the subject is being touched on a little now. As always I know where I want the story to go and the major beats I want it to hit on the way, but I sort of figure out how it gets there as I go along. So I can't nail down the future with irrevocable certainty but I don't predict that the nuances of it will be dug terribly deeply; only at most in the context of some sort of larger thought.

[Zenith Starwalker]

5754045 I share a similar sentiment towards filling in the details. Thanks for the input! I look forward to seeing where this sojourn arc is going.

[Ri2]

Yep. They're blatantly up to something.
…So…DOES sex exist here, or…?

[Hallucination]

6028823 I think we'll know after the orgy

[Truthseeker]

Dreadful feeling, increasing.

[DerpTape]

6542540
ORGY! WooHoo!

[KvAT]

I'll be honest, those introductions to their particular assistants are a bit too long and winding.